


Phil's Comfort

by someb0ys



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, Hurt, M/M, Missions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someb0ys/pseuds/someb0ys





	Phil's Comfort

Clint Barton has never known what it's like to feel completely safe. When he was growing up being afraid became normal once he left the safety of the orphanage and over the years the feeling of insecurity was dulled by time. He never knew what he was missing until he met Phil.

Phil was sturdy, always had emotions contained, always on time, and somehow he always knew what to say. It was during the first time Clint got badly injured in France that he realized that there was a difference between what he was used to and actually feeling like everything was going to be okay. 

Clint was laying on the hard cobblestone of some ally while help was still fifteen minutes away. Phil had his hand pressed to the bullet wound to keep Clint from bleeding out. Clint kept his eyes on Phil's face as he was struggling to hold onto consciousness.

“Barton you need to stay awake. Is that understood?” When Phil got no reply he moved his other hand to tap Clint's cheek.

“Not an idiot, I'm trying.” Every time he took an inhale it felt like the bullet was sinking deeper into his side. Clint felt another light tap on his cheek, his eyes opened again.

Phil checked his watch and smiled when he caught sight of his eyes. “Keep looking at me.” His voice was lower forcing Clint to try harder to listen. “I got you Clint, I'm not going to let you die.” The hand that was resting on Clint's cheek moved to his dirty blond hair, stoking his head.

“You got me.” Clint leaned into Phil's callused warm hand and blinked feeling trails of warm tears go down the sides of his face. “I gotta remember that.”

Phil leaned down pressing a kiss to Clint's forehead. He never asked weather the tears were from the pain or from what he said because it didn't matter. What mattered was that Clint was alive when the jets came.


End file.
